hope and its hiddenness

the cryotherapy cuff caresses
the wounded leg, muscle fibres still 
reconnecting after retraction,
gently
at first
increasing pressure 
clenching round
the slowly bonding skin held 
together by thirty-five staples
cycling ice-chilled water
smothering the enemy efforts of
inflammation’s radiant heat

the one degree waters
followed by first tentative steps
in spring’s three degreed greeting
send shivers straight to the tips of my toes
the whirling north wind
and uniformly gray-clouded sky offer 
no respite to my hypothermic spirits

still i keep icing
still i keep shivering

on the third day
i once again take 
the stairs one at a time - doctor’s orders
crutches down 
then right foot 
then left foot
four points of contact for every step
turn east at the end of the driveway
in the late afternoon
for another gwendolen loop

and, oh! bliss!
traversing their millions of miles
rays of wondrous warmth
land below the nape of my neck
where as a child 
mom’s gentle hand
led me into night’s embrace
work through my layers
of down, cotton, and polyester
and touch 
the frigid corners 
of my wearied soul

now, i knew
this, we will get through

Written by Scott Moore
Illustrated by Landon Wideman

Inspired February 2022